Martinis and Mergers
by margerykempe
Summary: One shot. "Listen, you seem nice, you usually don't sexually harass me, you tip well, and I'm not eager to be fired tonight. Why don't we forget this just happened?"


He had to give her credit—she made a mean martini. It was always perfectly dry, dirty, and she always had his favorite lemon-stuffed olives.

Of course, she was easy on the eyes too.

Young Do guessed that she was around his age, though he knew he looked older. It was the stress of managing a multinational corporation.

He liked this bar. It was quiet. There were never more than a few patrons and no one seemed to notice when he came to drink alone.

He always came alone.

It's not like he had time to meet anyone.

It was an excuse. He had plenty of time to meet someone as long as it was handled like a business transaction. He'd been on blind dates and met perfectly nice women—women who would be the perfect partner in public and private. But that was the problem— He was sick of handling his life through meetings and working lunches and arranged dates and business dinners.

When it started to get to him, he came here and he drank. He watched her making drinks. He watched her.

Tonight they hadn't exchanged more than a few words, but she was always attentive—it probably had more to do with his generous tips than anything else.

But she made a mean martini.

It kept him coming back.

He caught her eye from the other end of the bar and lifted his empty glass. She smiled and started mixing ingredients. He tried not to openly ogle her slender arms as she shook the martini. She strained it, pouring it into a glass, setting it on top of a fresh cocktail napkin in front of him.

She smiled at him and then walked back to her work at the other end of the bar.

Why shouldn't he just talk to her? He could handle this like a business transaction.

Or not. Because she was the type of woman that wasn't interested in business. At least not his type of business. It's probably what drew him to her.

No. Tonight he would talk to her. Ask her out. Try interacting with her like a normal human being and not a chaebol.

He drained his drink and caught her eye again, motioning for her to come towards him. She smiled and walked over to him. "Calling it a night?" she asked.

"Yes. Thanks." He handed her a few bills—more than necessary to cover the bill. "Keep the change."

"Thanks." She smiled at him and started walk off.

"Wait."

Stopping, she looked back at him, confused. "Yes?"

_Just say something. Normal human being, remember?_ "What time do you get off work?"

That was the wrong something to say. Her face grew cold as she looked at him for a long moment. "I'm sorry, sir, but I think you have the wrong idea about me."

"That's not what I— I mean, do you want to get a drink after you're done here?"

"You're asking me if I want to drink once I get done serving drinks?"

"Yes. Well. Now that you phrase it like that it does seem—" He trailed off.

She walked back over to where he was sitting and leaned on the bar, looking him straight in the eye. "Do you even know my name?"

"Sure it's— Uh—"

"That's what I thought. Listen, you seem nice, you usually don't sexually harass me, you tip well, and I'm not eager to be fired tonight. Why don't we forget this just happened? That way you can continue drinking here and I can continue working here. Okay?"

"Sure."

He watched her walk away, more angry at himself than anything. Normally women threw themselves at him. It was a novel experience to be outright rejected. He couldn't say that he much enjoyed the experience. _Damn. _He reached for his wallet, accidentally knocking his phone to the floor at the same time. Shaking his head at his own clumsiness, he bent over to retrieve it. As he straightened and stood back up, he was surprised to find her once again standing in front of him, eyeing him appraisingly.

"I'm off in an hour. Can you wait?"

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, but nodded his assent. She smiled and moved to serve a couple sitting at the other end of the bar.

Her sudden change of heart made his heart race.

* * *

Exactly an hour and ten minutes later, he found himself in the alley behind the bar, leaning up against the door of the car. She didn't want them to be seen leaving together—she said she might lose her job if anyone saw—so she'd asked him to meet in the back. He would have just bought the bar and given her the job back. Actually, it was a good idea. He might do that anyway.

He was so lost in thought that almost didn't notice her when she walked out. When he finally saw her, he had to remind himself to breathe. Her hair was down and tousled—a far cry from the severe ponytail she kept it in when she worked. Her makeup was more dramatic, but it didn't overwhelm the beauty of her face. She was soft and dangerous, all at the same time.

It took him a moment to recover, but he covered it by opening the car door for her. She slid in and he took a deep breath before moving around to the driver's side and sliding in.

"Where to?" he asked.

She glanced over at him with a critical eye. Seemingly satisfied with what she saw, she grinned. "I know a place."

They parked just down the block and he hopped out, moving quickly to her side to open the door for her. He offered her his hand to help her up. She smiled up at him and took it. He felt a shock run through him at her touch. As she stood, he saw her brow furrow slightly.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I don't suppose you have any other clothes?"

He shook his head.

She moved close to him, bringing her hands to his throat. He breathed in sharply, unnerved by her touch. Breathing deeply, he tried to get his racing heart under control. She quickly unknotted his tie and pulled it off, tossing it in the street. She held his gaze as she unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. Her hands moved slowly, deliberately—almost as if she knew how much her touch was affecting him. Then she raised her hands to his hair, running her fingers through it, releasing it from the constraints of his sleek, conservative style. He felt it fall forward, gently brushing his forehead.

"Better," she declared, stepping back to admire her handiwork. Then she held out her hand and he took it, allowing her to lead him to the front of a small club. He could hear the bass reverberating in the street. She strode forward through the entrance, smiling and waving at a few people as they passed from the lit hallway into the dark strobing lights of the club.

Still holding his hand, she didn't hesitate as she led him on to the floor, turning to move close to him. There were only inches between their bodies. He fought against the urge to grab her and move her even closer. He wanted her to take the lead.

She rested her hands on his biceps, giving him a knowing smile when she felt the tension. She ran her hands down his arms, trying to calm him. It only made him want to touch her more. She reached her fingers up to smooth the furrow between his eyebrows.

"Choi Young Do, it's no fun if you can't enjoy it." She laughed at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He could feel her small frame nestled into him and he could no longer control himself. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up. She moved to wrap her legs around his hips.

They were making a spectacle of themselves and he didn't care.

He carried her off the dance floor, looking for a dark corner.

Once he found one, he trapped her between him and the wall. She unwrapped her legs and slid down him, making him groan. Still, he held back.

She took his face in her hands and drew him in for a kiss. The minute their lips touched, a groan escaped from him. He felt her smile against his mouth. She broke away and leaned back against the wall, smiling up at him with a self-satisfied expression on her face.

Finally, he spoke: "Cha Eun Sang, I don't know if I can keep this up. Please." The last word was a plea.

"Are you ready to go home?"

He nodded, not trusting his voice.

"All right, husband. Take me home."

She didn't need to tell him twice. He scooped her up, carrying her towards the entrance in his arms.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Next time, wife, we play my way. How do you feel about meeting in my office tomorrow afternoon for an urgent meeting concerning a possible merger?"

She giggled.


End file.
